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Yesterday, Miu was with that finely looking young man. He took her to a nice dinner, at a cafe overlooking the sea, and then they went for a classical concert together. But after the concert, as they were walking out of the theater, her date paused to talk to another lady. And she left him, then and there, marching off with a haughty air. Wait, come back, the poor young lad cried out - but she cared little for his wretched heart.
Today, Miu is chatting up a new fellow, strong and muscled and good-looking. She brushes her hair idly as she talks, massaging oils into her shining fur. She spends almost more time studying her reflection in her pocket mirror than she does admiring her partner's chiseled good looks. Still, the boy is enamored, his eyes never leaving the stunning beauty of her face. Even when she laughs at him for looking like an owl, staring at her with such round goggly eyes - even then, he still cannot take his eyes off her.
Tomorrow, Miu will probably find more unsuspecting gents to mingle with. They will see themselves as beaus, but she will see them only as boys. Boys to be befriended as quickly as they can be bored of; boys to pick up and then cast away at her fancy. Sometimes, boys will ask her, hesitatingly, to "go steady". And then she throws her head back and laughs. There is no adventure in steady, she says. There is no life in steady. If a boat in the ocean did not toss and turn, how could we tell the difference between sitting in the boat and sitting on your couch? And then the boy will slink away, chastened, his tail between his legs. But he will come back, he will always come back - or he will try to. If she hasn't already left.
Perhaps she lives like the ocean, herself.
Always on the move, never really in any one place. Like time and tide, she waits - and cares - for no man. As beguiling and bewitching as the sirens and mermaids of old, and as capable of luring the naive to a watery grave.
But, in a way, also constant - whether it be yesterday, today or tomorrow.
Today, Miu is chatting up a new fellow, strong and muscled and good-looking. She brushes her hair idly as she talks, massaging oils into her shining fur. She spends almost more time studying her reflection in her pocket mirror than she does admiring her partner's chiseled good looks. Still, the boy is enamored, his eyes never leaving the stunning beauty of her face. Even when she laughs at him for looking like an owl, staring at her with such round goggly eyes - even then, he still cannot take his eyes off her.
Tomorrow, Miu will probably find more unsuspecting gents to mingle with. They will see themselves as beaus, but she will see them only as boys. Boys to be befriended as quickly as they can be bored of; boys to pick up and then cast away at her fancy. Sometimes, boys will ask her, hesitatingly, to "go steady". And then she throws her head back and laughs. There is no adventure in steady, she says. There is no life in steady. If a boat in the ocean did not toss and turn, how could we tell the difference between sitting in the boat and sitting on your couch? And then the boy will slink away, chastened, his tail between his legs. But he will come back, he will always come back - or he will try to. If she hasn't already left.
Perhaps she lives like the ocean, herself.
Always on the move, never really in any one place. Like time and tide, she waits - and cares - for no man. As beguiling and bewitching as the sirens and mermaids of old, and as capable of luring the naive to a watery grave.
But, in a way, also constant - whether it be yesterday, today or tomorrow.
Bio by Tar #1249086